⤷ nine

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"I can see your truck from up here

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"I can see your truck from up here. What if someone follows you?" Robin notified, towering over Dawn and Hank, who crouched near the edge of the edifice, spying on the group of dealers deploying their weapons to the customers. Beneath the dark sky, her black uniform hid her figure, the orange frames barely reflecting, it was an excellent camouflage to hide in plain sight.

Styling a bright red and white suit, Hank rasped at her utterances, her constant remarks of things they had been doing wrong had started to unsettle him. "They can't follow us if no one's left standing," he snickered at her pause, raising a hand to gesture the strategy for their strike. Dawn nodded, the blonde braid she had put together in the car, falling loosely on her shoulder.

They were the first ones to leap from the short structure, their bird-themed costumes exhibiting a display for the woman gawking from the top. Dawn's blue wings fluttered in the air, helping her land safely, earning her advantage while the men carrying the guns gaped at them astounded. Hank gave the initial blow, sending a dealer into an unconscious state, plummeting on his face.

Dawn immersed herself in a group of four, exposing herself in an unfair fight, for them. She booted one of them in the chin, jabbing him back, and as her leg dropped, she snapped her foot on another's waist, making him topple down. The rest of the combat was resumed with her fists and arms, seizing a machine gun from their grip and whacking both surviving with its stub, effortlessly getting rid of the small group.

After the influence of their spell wore off, a third figure lunged from the roof, dropping before a minority of troubled criminals striving to elude the takedown. They froze on the place after seeing her presence, not even thinking to move. "Now, is that a way to welcome someone?" She smirked, lifting one eyebrow daringly at a specific man who had opened their mouth. He made no sound, opting to hold up his handgun.

Shaking her head, her boot pushed the gun away and as his eye observed the weapon, she punched him in the nose.

She shook off the pain that shot between her knuckles, glancing at the thugs around her, who yet hadn't shifted as if they were waiting for her. Taking them by surprise, Robin struck them, struggling with solely one, the largest of them all. The built man footed between the fallen bodies of his colleagues, cracking the bones of his clutched hands.

Gulping down a minor concern, she readied for an equal battle, it was rate to find someone who resembled her skills enough to endure further than two rounds. But this man was preparing to stick around for a few more. His firearm had been discarded to the ground, the lone combatant that didn't hide behind the trigger.

She liked him. Stepping sideways from her right foot, she started to stride in circles, keeping with his pace, evaluating every action, anticipating his upcoming punch. He scowled into her eyes, raising his fist just a little, discreet for the untrained sight. That was not her case. She got ready to swing her body to the left, hands setting to clasp his arm and use his weight against him.

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐘 ― d. grayson ¹Where stories live. Discover now